


The Tactical Alpha

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Rather the discussion of how to avoid it), Alpha/Omega, Animalistic Behaviour, Flirting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Scenting, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Michael gets to meet Dean for the first time. He's keen on not making the same mistakes as Lucifer.





	The Tactical Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> The dubious consent tag is due to the whole boss/employee thing and this part is where that issue will start to disappear, so if dubious consent squicks you this chapter is something you'll like to read, rather than avoid. :)
> 
> We'll also see another view on the whole Progressive/Conservative/Primal thing than how Dean views it. :)
> 
> Beta read by my awesome Beta [YouCantKeepMeDown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown). (And Grammarly.) Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Flaring eyes are hot. I might have a kink. Just saying.
> 
>  

* * *

Michael is eating his lunch on a lower floor than usual today. Gabe’s having a lunch meeting, having a new ad campaign pitched to him, Raphael is out of state, setting up the HR department in an office they’re about to open, and Luci’s in court. Michael likes to choose random floors to spot-check the general quality of the workplace when he has to eat without his brothers, rather than suffer through the company of the same stuffy colleagues he always work with. 

He smells him before he even enters the room. _The_ Omega. Mike hasn't been crushing this hard on anyone for a decade. Last time he felt anything like this she'd turned out to be Progressive and it was doomed before it started even though she was as attracted to him as he to her. Mike had taken a course in socio-biology in college and been shocked at what he learned. It's common knowledge that morphological species are highly adaptable. Most pride themselves in that. If an individual behaved a certain way often and thrived their DNA altered, passing on the traits to their offspring. Unlike non-morphs it doesn't take many generations for a species to change. Long, long ago several separate species had begun evolving in the same direction. They came from branches of the big cats and canines. 

Somewhere along this road the two species started to look and act alike and came to a point where they could and did interbreed. Each mix resulted in a dice roll of traits. The same dice roll still occurred in modern day packs.

When Packrunning became the norm is unclear but a proof of this is the greater diversity in traits in offspring within a pack than amongst monogamous pairs. The pack made sure everybody thrived. Even those born with handicaps. This is also still visible in the closest living relatives - the wolfcat. 

Other animals also developed morphological branches but none going in the same direction as the human ancestors. 

Now, what shocked Mike to find out is that their species is branching off _as we speak_ , caused not by physical circumstances but by ideologies. Progressives refused to use primal senses and as a result, a few generations down the line, they are losing them. Sometimes as early as third or fourth generation down and especially in cities where there are a lot of people since they could easily find mates within their ideology. On the countryside Progressives often enough are forced to keep using their senses and will intermix with Conservatives, slowing down the rate with which it happens. Here in the city, many are born with partial nose blindness, partial ear blindness, and an underdeveloped breastbone resonance chamber. They could no longer make or hear the low-frequency sounds, and not pick up the finer details in scent communication. This makes mixing with Primals impossible not solely because of clashing views, but because they literally no longer spoke the same language.

In opposition to popular belief, the Conservatives changed their behavior in adaptation to the devastating wars and the ideology of it being a God's decree came later. The wanderlust of Omegas and the penchant to leave their mate/mates during hardship (Because the Alphas couldn't provide for them properly) became a disadvantage for survival in many areas. Many Omegas got killed. That spawned the new dynamics of bonding in monogamous pairs where the Alphas would hold onto their Omegas no matter what, protecting them fiercely and keeping primal behavior to the private sanctuary of their homes. Scent marking territory made them easier to find and you couldn't defend yourself against napalm and bombs. As such public displays of primal behavior became frowned upon. Packrunning with all that entails turned into a taboo when the military started bombing areas with big packs, killing everyone whether they were part of a pack or just lived too close to a marked territory. 

In contrast, Primals had the best survival rates in the Midwest and in mountainous terrain where the fighting had been mostly on the ground, man to man. There Packrunning kept its benefits with the diversity in talents and intimidating displays of body language. 

Since the peace was declared circumstances had changed but the ideologies remained. Their species is branching off and right now the Omega Mike has the biggest crush on, the Omega of his own branch, is currently on his way in. Gods. He smells so good Mike understands how the idea of truemates was born! Like he was specially made for Michael. 

Truemates don't exist. The idea popped up amongst Conservatives and few generations in when they started mistaking the tight bond that consisted between a mated pair for something unique. It's not. The same strong bond is formed by everyone in a pack, especially strongly in mates, which you could have several of. But if you haven't grown up in a pack it's hard to relate. 

Michael turns his head towards the door in suspense. He'll finally get to see him. 

The janitor enters pushing his cart. He's wearing headphones and bobbing his head in time with the music, taking small dancing steps as he goes along. He's _gorgeous_. 

Suddenly the janitor stops dead, tilts his head up and scents shamelessly, zero fucks given about what people might say. Luci’s right. He's as primal as they come. He turns like a compass needle to look at Michael, causing a thrill and burst of butterflies in Mike's belly. He flares and it's possibly the most gorgeous colour Mike's seen. Minty green at the edges and silvery white around his pupils with a strong luminescence. 

Michael gets Luci. He feels heat in his eyes and pressure in his jaws. It's almost hard to resist to drop fangs, something Mike seldom does since it hurts too much and he doesn’t take pleasure out of pain like Luci does. Instead, he shifts his canines into points and smiles. He flares only one eye briefly in a primal version of a wink. His Omega dad, Chuck, could do that, but Mike is the only brother who's mastered it.

The odd gesture causes the Omega to make a delighted trilling noise and grin broadly at him. In other words, Luci hasn't ruined it for them. Mike nearly purrs. He tilts his head back to scent, albeit more discreetly than the janitor had done, but keeps eye contact to make sure the janitor doesn’t miss it. Luci’s description was on point. The Omega's scent is untainted by sickness and worry. He’s one or two days away from his preheat, happy and content in every way.

The janitor lets his eyes go back to their normal colour and goes on to start mopping the floor with one last look and smirk at Mike.

Michael follows him with his gaze, food forgotten. He considers his options. He has to talk to him obviously. But he thinks he's better off waiting until the guy's finished cleaning this room and is on the move to the next. This isn't a work-related matter so it would be rude to interrupt him for a personal thing such as this. Plus there are other people in here who might not appreciate the sight of two Primals flirting while they eat. Some of the body language can be interpreted both as hostile and as flirting and may make people uncomfortable.

Mike settles for watching the janitor while he finishes eating his lunch, waiting for the Omega to be done cleaning.

Not everyone considers the lunchroom a bad place to flirt. Another Alpha enters the room with his lunch box, spots the janitor and keeps him within sight while he puts his lunch in the microwave for heating. While the food heats he swaggers up to the janitor with a flirty smirk. Mike withholds a growl and keeps watching impassively.

The janitor sees his would-be suitor approach and removes his headphones, keeps eye contact but doesn’t stop working.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” the janitor greets with a friendly smile.

“I’ve seen you around, and I was thinking, maybe you and I meet up sometime and see where that leads?”

The janitor gives the guy a once over then meets his gaze with a lopsided smirk. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great. How about tomorrow after work?”

“Sounds good. So. I'm gonna be hungry when I'm done…” The janitor lets the sentence trail off and bends down to mop under a table. 

“Okay. So we go home to eat, and then we meet up at―“ 

Michael isn't the only one who's following the exchange with interest. The three Alphas by the table next to Mike's are watching too and now one of them chokes on his drink and another looks absolutely scandalized. The janitor cuts his courtier off with a laugh and straightens up. “Yeah, no. Ain't gonna happen. Sorry, pal, I don't swing that way.”

“But you just said―“ the suitor begins to protest in confusion. This time he cuts off his sentence himself when the janitor smiles widely at him while flaring and making his canines pointy―teething. The smile saying he's friendly, the flaring and teething a ‘Fuck off’ within the context. 

Mike can smell the burst of fear from the suitor as the guy backs off. The janitor puts his headphones back on, losing interest. 

“That was rude,” one of the Alphas by the table next to Mike's comments, getting agreement from all. “Dropping fangs for no reason,” he adds.

“ _Dropping f―_! You think the _Omega_ was the rude one?”

“That's not dropping fangs,” another Alpha laughs. “That's teething. I've seen him drop fangs once when a guy wouldn’t stop pestering him. I swear, they're _this_ long! I almost shat myself and _my_ mate drops fangs all the time so you’d think I’d get used to it. How the hell can't you tell the difference?”

“The question is, how you can think the Alpha was rude?” the first speaker counters, taking offense. 

“How can you not? Seriously? He was expecting the Omega to let himself get fucked _and_ take care of his own needs. I don't get you Progs. Even the Primals have a better view of things. Omegas are to be revered and nurtured. Even if only for a quick fuck you offer _something_ to earn the privilege.”

Michael stops listening. Primals and Conservatives are fairly alike if you don't count the extremists. He's very tempted to do something exceedingly rude himself. When two of the Alphas get up and leave at the same time as the janitor passes by his table with his back close enough to touch, Mike thinks ‘Fuck it’, opens his mouth and inhales deeply, closes his mouth and pushes air up into the olfactory receptors in his nose, siphoning it repeatedly. The grunting noise it makes gives him away but the janitor has headphones on and hopefully doesn't hear it.

The chemicals the janitor is working with are almost scentless except for when you siphon them. They sting bad enough to tear Mike's eyes and he blinks until he's managed to separate and ignore that scent as unimportant. He picks out the janitor’s scent, getting the same information as before with one exception. His heart makes a double beat. The Omega is bonded. It's not a mate bond or he would have been able to smell it without siphoning. No. Someone closely related. Another Omega. Sister perhaps? It's hard to tell. Either way that has some implications that Mike doesn't even dare hope for. To know exactly he'd have to lick the Omega’s glands and siphon the secretion and even then he's not sure he'd know how to interpret what he smelt. Instinct only goes so far.

His dad probably could. He's got experience. Both growing up in a large, diverse pack and running alongside others during the war. Marlon Williams met Chuck Shurley on the battlefield and it was love at first whiff. Together they fought in the mountains and by the time Marlon returned to New York he was mated with a pregnant Chuck, bringing him and his Alpha sister, integrating them into the Pack. The war had given him the experience needed to understand what he smelt. 

The Alpha left at the table next to Mike's chuckles with a knowing gaze at Mike. 

“Don't judge me. He's _perfect_ ,” Mike tells him with a rueful smile.

“Not judging, Mr. Williams. Finding one's truemate makes everyone do stupid things.”

Michael refrains from refuting the truemate claim. Instead, he smiles. “Yes. And it's not like he heard me.”

“No. I remember when I met my Miriam. I was madly in love with her for a year before I even laid eyes on her, then when we met we couldn't stand each other yet couldn't stay away from each other either. But, by the grace of God, it resolved itself and now we're happily mated for ten years. Two kits and a third on the way.”

“She was a Primal?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” It's not. Many Omegas misconstrued the behavior of a Conservative Alpha as oppressive. If the Alpha wasn't an extremist the Omega would eventually pick up on the similarities in their ways and drop hostility and the Alpha would act more primal with her (or him) in private than he would with a Conservative mate. Michael sees the Omega's nearly done. He makes a nodding gesture towards the janitor. “If you'll excuse me, that's my cue.”

“Best of luck to you, Mr. Williams,” the Alpha smiles as Michael gets up to throw his empty lunchbox away. When he passes the janitor he duffs him lightly with his hip to get his attention. The janitor looks up and locks gaze in question. Mike lets his lips curve up in a lopsided smirk, teething just the tiniest bit, and narrows his eyes playfully. His heart flutters when the janitor responds with a smirk of his own and a twinkle in his eyes. Mike keeps up eye contact all the way to the door where he has to turn his head or he might do something mortifying like walk into the wall or something. He shivers at the thought.

He likes the confidence and cockiness of the Omega. He seems like the type you really have to impress to earn a mateship with. No wonder Luci outperformed himself after both encounters with him. 

Mike walks a respectable distance down the corridor, enough to give the Omega time to spot him and not to appear as if he’s trying to impose. He turns towards the doorway the janitor will come from, puts his hands in his pockets, thumbs pointing at his crotch, leans a shoulder nonchalantly on the wall, crosses his ankles and waits with anticipation.

He doesn’t have to wait long. As soon as the janitor comes into the corridor pushing his cart Mike flares (both eyes this time), smiles, and teeths his canines, letting them grow a tad bit longer than their normal size. Anyone smelling as wonderful as this guy is worth the ache it brings. He smiles but withholds the deep-purr. No reason to use a sound that won’t be heard.

The Omega spots him and stops, smiling back he removes his headphones. “I’ll be damned. I wasn’t sure if you did that one-eyed flare on purpose or if it was a birth defect. That’s pretty fucking awesome, Mr. Williams.”

Mike mentally fistpumps. It’s well worth the hours of struggling to learn it as a Juvie just to hear him say that. “Thank you. I trust it got the message through?”

The Omega chuckles and looks down at the floor. When he looks up again he’s flaring and teething right back at Mike. “Yes, Sir. Sure did.”

“Good. Say… I was hoping you’d allow me to take you and your sister out for dinner sometime?”

The janitor looks confused. “Sister, Sir?”

 _Dammit. Wrong guess._ “Mother?” Mike hedges, making the janitor look even more confused. “Brother then?”

The janitor’s features smooth out in understanding. “Oh. Oh, yeah. That. That’d be neat. We’d definitely be up for that, Sir,” he grins.

The too-good-to-be-true elements of this guy just keep stacking up. It’s a bold move to ask both out at the same time. But no matter how Mike ends up feeling about the other Omega, if they’re bonded, like the siphoning told him they are, then the janitor will be much more positively inclined towards Mike and his brothers if they see to his brother’s needs too. “I’d like to scent you, if that’s okay with you?” Mike asks. Doing that without permission may result in a violent outlash in self-defence no matter how interested an Omega may seem.

In response, the janitor’s smirks lopsidedly and tilts his head to bare his neck in invitation. 

Mike leaves his position to approach the Omega. He leans in close, slowly as to not seem self-entitled, and puts his nose against the glands behind the Omegas ear to scent. _By the gods,_ he smells fantastic! Mike’s insides are going haywire. He closes his eyes and rubs the tip of his nose against the gland to stimulate it and make the scent stronger. He hears the Omega inhale deeply but strangely enough, he doesn’t turn his head to scent Mike back. The Omega isn’t even in heat but still he smells the beginning of arousal Mike’s nuzzling causes, telling of genuine interest. But the janitor is standing too still, and Mike catches a very faint undertone of distress. Mike wonders if it’s because of how Luci had all but attacked him the first time they met.

Mike leans away to face the janitor eye to eye. “You smell wonderful. You’ve caused quite a stir amongst me and my brothers.”

“Thank you, Sir.” The janitor smirks cockily but there’s something guarded in his eyes now.

“I want to apologise on the behalf of my brother. His behaviour was out of line.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The faint undertone of distress gets stronger.

Mike hums. “We were expecting you to file a complaint, but since you didn’t, I assumed you maybe didn’t mind it all that much?”

The note of distress is no longer faint. It’s as in-your-face as the notes of arousal and good health. The janitor even takes half a step back and holds up his hands palm out in a disarming gesture. His body language is still friendly, and he’s still smiling, teething and flaring, but something is wrong. “Yeah, no. Don’t worry about it, Sir. I ain't filing no complaints. I like my job. I’d never do that.”

It takes several beats for Mike to get what he means because the very idea of what he implicates is so unthinkable. But when he does, it hits him like a bucket of cold water in the face and puts a ball of ice in Mike’s belly. The janitor thinks he’s risking his job if he says no or files a complaint. A ‘yes’ doesn’t mean anything unless saying ‘no’ is a safe and comfortable option available. It doesn’t matter how willing the Omega is if there’s even a trace of coercion. “Would you have? If you didn’t like your job?”

“Of course not, Sir. Never. I swear, it’s fine. I didn’t mind. Have you seen your brother? He’s hot as fuck. It’s just… time and place, you know? Honestly. I didn’t mind. Wouldn’t have. I’m not complaining, Sir,” the janitor babbles with a gorgeous smile and guarded eyes. 

_He’s afraid of telling me the truth for the same gods be damned reason._ Mike loses his flare. He could stand here all day arguing, coaxing the janitor to believe him, saying that he can rebuff any of their advances without consequences. It won’t make a lick of difference as long as the janitor fears losing his job. On top of that, he’d get in trouble with his closest superior if Mike kept him too long. Like he said, ‘time and place’. “Yes, he’s definitely hot. A bit too hot at times, as you got to experience.” Mike gives him a close-lipped smile. “I’ll get back to you about dinner, okay? I need to be on my way.” One last one-eyed flare then Mike hurries away with his heart hammering, not looking back. This needs to be fixed. What if the janitor _had_ wanted to file a complaint? Mike can’t send him to Raphael who is head of HR since Raphael is also a Williams and might incite the same fear. It has to be someone else, a third party, preferably an Omega who has worked in close proximity with Raphael and thus knows the Williams family well enough to know they could be trusted to act honourably. He can’t take the janitor and his brother to dinner before this obstacle is dealt with. And he has to inform his brothers about this bump in the road. _Fuck._ Luci isn’t the only one who’ll be faceplanting mournfully tonight…

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I just realised that a couple of decades or possibly centuries down the line, those that are Progressive today, might turn out to have developed into what we'd call Betas. :D Which would make this an ABO after all. ^^' 
> 
> Also, for those of you who read Volatile Chemistry, expect another chapter this weekend. ;)
> 
> And please comment! It works wonders for my enthusiasm! <3


End file.
